


Learn to Swim

by threewalls



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, Partnership, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-28
Updated: 2010-04-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><cite>"Humes believe any viera they meet is a female," Fran says, with a tilt of her head that he is coming to recognise as her equivalent of a shrug. "It is my luck that their expectations match my self and my misfortune that they do not often encompass my body."</cite></p><p>Balthier nods. He is tall, and slim, and he, too, is lucky.</p><p>Set c. 701 OV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learn to Swim

Down the wave-washed planking steps, the Pregnant Seahorse is the sort of tavern Balthier has always wanted to visit and never had the courage. Not the patrons in various states of dishabille, and/or other patrons' laps: this is Balfonheim, and he'd seen the same in free houses in some of the lower levels of the city. But the flicker and sway of chandeliered candlelight cannot disguise that, here, the women are on average taller than the men, taller than Balthier. That even the ones with cleavage spilling out tend towards bodices with cut-outs and wide, high, choker-collars.

Balthier endeavours not to stare, with moderate success. He follows Fran's purposeful strides, as the churning mass of bodies seem to part for her. She can be no stranger to this place.

One of the bartenders already has a fruity drink in a tall glass waiting for Fran, who steps up to the bar and leans over its breadth to-- to kiss, her nails gripping the bartender's short hair.

"Fran, girl, that better be a greeting, not an invitation. I don't get off 'til five!"

"I come with company. I have become a sky pirate. He is my captain. Chris; Balthier. Balthier; Chris."

Balthier extends his hand, man to androgynous man, and shakes.

"I've told her there's no engineer alive that can resist the sky." Chris glances Balthier up and down, smiles, and releases Balthier's hand. "And what do you want, hm, Captain?"

Balthier orders whiskey on ice.

They find a table by the wall with a group just leaving. He and Fran drink without speaking, amid the chatter and clamour and smoke and sweat. Fran nods at passing patrons, gaining nods in return, but no one approaches to talk. Balthier wonders if it's him, and then comes to stop wondering. Minute by minute, the tension between Balthier's shoulder blades eases. He thinks about Fran's friend's smile, think he probably got made, but for the first time, it feels more like being recognised.

When they left Rabanastre this morning, Fran had brought luggage with her for the first time: a gorgeous airbike. Balthier hoped this meant they were finally getting somewhere, that Fran's presence on the job was becoming something more permanent than a vieran whim. She requested visiting Balfonheim, which Balthier now realises meant visiting the Seahorse.

Balthier had recognised what kind of tavern this is as soon as he reached the door. The bouncer had blue highlights through inky black hair, sharp glittered cheekbones and boots with buckles to the knees and three-inch-thick soles. Fran knew the bouncer by name. Balthier suspects he made it through the door without interrogation mainly on the introduction of Fran's hand resting upon his shoulder.

Fran brought him here with purpose. He looks at her, looks, and looks, and sees nothing different. From the first day he met her, Balthier has known that Fran is taller and stronger. He's seen that ribbon around her neck so many times, and never thought more of it.

"I didn't know that this was your sort of venue."

"Humes believe any viera they meet is a female," Fran says, with a tilt of her head that he is coming to recognise as her equivalent of a shrug. "It is my luck that their expectations match my self and my misfortune that they do not often encompass my body."

Balthier nods. He is tall, and slim, and he, too, is lucky.

Balthier knows he should say something sympathetic, but the words" I understand" stick in his throat. Doctor Cid had been all too happy to indulge his youngest son. The Akademy had not, and by then, his father's madness had meant Ffamran could no longer rely on his understanding. If not for the opportunity of the Strahl, he wouldn't be here. That was six months ago; the six months at the Akademy feels longer in Balthier's mind. There, Ffamran had learnt that any detail would be turned to serve another's argument, would be seen as a concession that there could be any grounds for debate. _Balthier_ has never explained himself.

"Is this why you brought me here? To show me all this, to see what my reaction would be?"

"The Strahl is a small ship and you are observant. I would have this conversation here, not elsewhere. If you wish to rescind your offer of employment..." Fran tilts her head.

"Offer of partnership," Balthier says. "And of course not. I'd have to hire three to match your skills, and I-- you should know that I--" The words trip in his mouth. Balthier has never explained himself, before. "-- I don't need to shave."

"Nor do I." Fran says, taking a long pull from her glass that is nothing but mischief. She gives him a sidelong glance."But I know what you mean."

Balthier looks at her. Fran looks at him, her eyes on his face. The moment stretches and stretches. Balthier thinks about Fran's friends across the bar and in the crowd, and about Fran's bike in the hold of his ship and the key in his pocket. She might have guessed, but she couldn't have known.

"The offer stands. Unless you have some objection."

Fran shakes her head.

"I have enjoyed working with a captain," she says: "who schedules shore leave every five weeks."

Their glasses chime, hers tall and fluted, his short and square. Balthier's never had a friend to laugh about this with.

\---

MC  
28/4/10


End file.
